


Falls the Shadow

by isabeau, Miriam (isabeau)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Really old fic (pre-2000)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-01
Updated: 2000-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau/pseuds/isabeau, https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau/pseuds/Miriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oz ... talks to Willow.  Yep.  That's about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falls the Shadow

"Hey, Will."

I don't say more than that, but I don't need to. I never need to.  
She knows what I want to say, what I mean to say, what I need to say.  
I'd do anything, for her, even if it meant talking and never stopping.  
She's never asked me to do that, though. Usually, neither of us need  
me to. Usually, what I say is enough.

Usually.

I sit down next to her. She got another haircut after school ended.  
Xander told her that it looked shaggy, but he had that odd quirky  
smile he only gets when he's teasing Willow. She just laughed at him,  
and told him he looked shaggier. I said nothing, then; not 'til  
later. But it wasn't shaggy, to me. It was Willow. It couldn't be  
anything other than perfect.

Even now, it doesn't look shaggy, doesn't look wrong, doesn't look  
like anything other than Willow. I run my hands along it, feeling the  
silkiness. Her shampoo lately makes her smell of autumn woods just  
after the rain. None of the others notice it. Maybe it's some  
werewolf thing. Maybe it's just that I've always been way attuned to  
her.

It's almost the full moon; I can feel it in my bones, in my blood,  
calling to me. Full moons are always the loneliest nights, for me and  
for her. I don't remember much other than a strange hollow yearning.  
I think wolf-me wants to run with his mate, with my Willow. Only  
Willow can't run with me, not on those nights. She never will.

"I love you," I murmur.

Willow says nothing.

Her hand is cold, and I press it to my cheek, then clasp it between my  
hands. As if anything I could do will warm it up; as if anything I  
could do would help; as if I could get her to speak to me, to heal the  
emptiness I'm starting to feel.

I can't help her now. Maybe I never could.

"I love you," I say again. There are so many things left unsaid.  
It's odd that, though I don't ever say much, this is the first time  
that I've felt like silence is wrong. There are so many things I want  
to say. I could, but that isn't my style. I don't talk. I just  
feel.

Right now, I can't even do that.

Giles is in the room, then, and he's looking at me with a calm queer  
half-smile. I've seen that smile before, when he was worrying about  
Buffy, when he was watching his life fall apart. When he was  
grieving.

"It's time, Oz."

His voice is quiet, calm, unshaking. I want to say that he's being  
strong. I want to say I want to be like him. But I think that he's  
having as much of a problem dealing with this as I am. He's tearing  
up inside, and he doesn't know how to express it. Just like me. Two  
pathetic souls helpless in the hands of Fate. And Fate is a cruel  
bitch.

I nod at him, and lean over to kiss Willow on the forehead. I wish I  
could give her one last kiss, a real kiss, but that isn't going to  
happen. Ever.

And then I step back, and they're closing the casket and taking it  
away. Giles waits for me, saying nothing, just watching.

There are so many questions I could ask him, and almost do. Will it  
ever get better? How can I live, now? How can I go on when I've  
buried my heart? When all I am is a walking hollow shell, not  
thinking, not feeling, just pretending...

I say nothing. Giles says nothing. We walk out together.

They'd made her look almost human, almost alive. They're good at  
that, I think; good at covering up the unexplained deaths, the neck  
wounds, the headless corpses. Covering up death. Except there's no  
way to escape from it, really. Even if you hide it, if you pretend  
it's not there-- it is. And it will come.

Even for the good guys.

  



End file.
